The Night Train: Eveningwear in Motion

Crossing the Alps after dark — black tie built to be lived in, not just worn.
There is a romance to the night train that no aircraft has managed: the slow climb into the Simplon, the dining car, the window going black against the mountains.
It is the rare place that still rewards dressing for dinner. We cut our travelling eveningwear soft — a dinner jacket with a little give, trousers that forgive a long sit — so black tie can survive a border crossing and still look like it meant to.
Pack it rolled, not folded; let it hang an hour at the other end. By the time the lights of the next city arrive, so has the jacket.


